Lavender Canvas
by Lola Fairweather
Summary: What does a local divorcee Sheriff and burgeoning Artist have in common other than running an art program for the children of the small southern town of King County? AU No Walkers. Inspired by Ari Lennox's Backseat
1. Chapter 1

I'm a mess. It's been awhile since I even touched my first Richonne fic, but this idea has been floating around in my head and I figured I'd put pen to paper (metaphorically speaking) and give it a shot. Please let me know what you think! Your feedback is greatly appreciated.

"If this is a program for 'at risk youths' why do I have to go?" Carl Grimes shifted the stringy brown strains of hair that had matted to his sweaty forehead. His father, Rick, let out a hot breath as he glanced over at his son for the umpteenth time during their car ride to the town activity center. It was a muggy July morning in Kings County, one that was surely gearing up to be a hot day. This Saturday also had the makings of being a tough one for his 12-year-old son, who would rather be shouting into his headset while battling online strangers in his prized video game Call of Duty.

Earlier that morning, Rick overheard the rapid jamming of the controller buttons on his way to the bathroom. He gently pressed his son's bedroom door open and found him with a cereal spoon dangling from his mouth as he rested inside the cavernous dip of a bean bag chair that had seen better days. Lori, Rick's ex-wife, had chided him about his purchase and placement of the gaming system. According to her stuffy parenting magazines she valued more than her ex-husbands opinion, acquiring the violence inducing game console was the first poor choice and installing said console in your child's bedroom where you couldn't monitor their activity was the final nail in the coffin.

As usual, Rick listened to Lori's concerns and weighed out the pros and cons. Carl only shared his father's home every other weekend and Rick always made sure he completed two hours of homework every day before he sealed himself to that god awful bean bag. However, Rick was starting to come around to his ex-wife's point of view. It felt like every time Lori would bring Carl by for his weekend the only thing in acknowledgement that he was offering up to his dad was a two second two armed hug, then he would sprint up to his bedroom and only reemerge when the delivery guy rang the doorbell signaling dinner.

So this morning Rick decided that it was time he checked out the summer art program that was being run through the Sherriff's department with the help of a local artist who just moved into town. The inaugural first day was two weeks ago but Rick and Carl were on a camping and fishing excursion for a week with his father and the next weekend was used to catch up on paperwork back in the office.

Rick felt bad for missing out on the first two weekends especially since he was so vocal and dedicated in getting the program started. Jessie Anderson, the only other single parent in his son's carpool, had jumped at the idea when he casually mentioned it to her when he dropped Carl off for a sleepover. So he volunteered her (after running it by Jessie and receiving an enthusiastic yes) to run the program from 9:00 am to 12:00 pm. Unfortunately, Jessie backed out two weeks ago while the Grimes men were on their vacation and Daryl Dixon, Rick's partner, managed to sign on his girlfriend's best friend to man the helm. Sasha Williams apparently had a friend who was finishing up an exhibit in New York City and moving down to Georgia to get away from the fast paced lifestyle of the city. So it all worked out perfectly, except for the tiny matter of Rick never meeting the program director. Now this was his chance to rectify that, and get Carl out of the house before he prematurely aged his eyes.

"I think it'll be a good idea for you to try somethan' different. Get to spend some time with the kids around here and not those virtual strangers you get into shoutin' matches with. I'm a Sheriff, I should know better than letting you interact with people you don't know."

Carl sighed, reaching for the car door handle, "I know, but this is the only time I get to play it. Mom only lets me use the computer for one hour every day."

"And that's a good thang. You should be going outside, gettin' some fresh air or reading book."

"You know I have my comic books." Carl released his hand from the door and slumped back into the car seat. It was a constant reminder for Rick to not take any of this personally. The divorce might have been 8 months old but the gash like wound it left was still being held together by a measly Band-Aid. Lori hadn't made it easy on anyone especially with the list of demands she had for Rick. After finally getting everything she wanted, within reason to Rick, they had fallen into a steady schedule of hand offs and drop offs with very little disruption. Except for the past two months, where Carl was extending his weekends into five day visits or entire weeks. Rick didn't really care about the excuses he was happy to have more time with his son; even if it meant Carl spending the majority of it in his room.

"How about this? We check out this art thang and after we'll run down to the Archie's and then grab some burgers. Does that sound fair?" Archie's was the nearest comic book shop a town over that Carl couldn't get enough off. They only made the trip a few times a month because if he could have it his way he'd clean out his father's wallet with as many comics as possible.

Pretending to think it over, Carl brought a contemplative finger to this chin, "And ice cream after? Two scoops?"

"One and you've got yourself a deal." With the plan set in place the two men made their way down from Rick's pickup truck. His cowboy boots picked up small clouds of dirt and settled themselves to the cuffs on his dark jeans as he made his way across the unfinished parking lot. Carl ran ahead, probably ready to get this thing over with, leaving his father to traverse the way by himself.

Rick entered the Kings County town center and took a look around. It seemed to be busy with the general Saturday crowd. A few moms from the PTA had successfully petitioned to start a farmer's market and the fruits of their labor were showcased inside the Rec center where Rick assumed the program would take place. He moved through the room keeping an eye out for Carol Peltier head mom of the local PTA gang. Instead he found a woman in the back corner of the room bent down thumbing through a paint splattered canvas bag. Her toned arms moved deftly as she worked her way amongst the various items inside. She wore a simple black thin cotton dress that seemed to whisper against her thighs then cling to firm round buttocks that hid beneath the material as she stood up and apprehended her long white canvas. The thick pen that she collected from the bag began to move in a series of loops and sudden turns as she slid the felt tip across the white surface. The women would pause every now and then and survey her work running a lone finger along the base of her tightly combed fro. She would take a few steps back and then another forward, envisage and add on.

It was beautiful rhythmic dance that was further enticing by her shapely form. Rick was a well-mannered good ole southern boy, one that never let his gaze linger for more than the polite few seconds it took to acknowledge a person's presence. But this woman floating back and forth around the canvas wasn't doing him any favors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I had this chapter saved just needed to add more. Definitely want to work on this, and finally get some really full chapters laid out. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Rick cleared his throat and brought a hand to his chin. He diverted his eyes from the stunning young woman and looked around the room. He spotted Carl at the Greene's table, sampling the vibrant green peas plucked from the pods they had been encased in. Beth Greene was enthusiastically explaining the various vegetables sitting on display to Carl who seemed to be more so focused on the charming teenage blonde.

"Hey!" Carol called out as she approached him. Rick gave her a small nod, still attempting to keep his gaze from drifting off into the arts corner.

"Decent turnout." He commented while accepting a mug of coffee from his friend.

"Yeah, not too bad for this town. I wish more people knew about our visiting artist. She's really something." Murmuring the last of her statement into her travel cup. She gestured over to the woman who was currently bent over, again, swirling colorful liquids in glass jars with a thick wooden brush. Her next tasked involved calling over an overzealous toddler and setting him up with a wide blank board on top of a tarp that had seen better days.

"I take it you haven't met Michonne? She's Jessie's replacement."

"How's she workin' out?"

"See for yourself. The only kid participating is her son. The first week all the mom's showed up excited to drop their kids off and spend time with a real artist. And instead of sweet, wholesome, harmless Jessie, Michonne walks in wearing daisy dukes and one of those tops that looked hacked off at your stomach."

"Was that a problem?" Already knowing what the answer would be, Rick rolled his eyes in anticipation.

"Not for the dads! I spoke with her, she's a nice girl with a cute son. All girls her age dress that way."

"Well, I wouldn't call her a girl." Rick grunted softly. He still hadn't caught a full glimpse of her face but the profile she was showing off at the moment provided him with an outline of her full tempting lips.

Carol laughed, "Oh yeah, what would you call her?"

Leave it to Carol to go and twist his words. "By her name, Carol. They all really withdrew their kids?" he asked irritably. Rick had spent so much time on organizing and acquiring the funding that it ticked him off a little that the PTA moms didn't want to participate because the teacher was hott.

"Yeah, because she's hott." Echoing his thoughts Carol continued, "And you're obviously thinking in the same camp. Here let me introduce you. Michonne! "

The woman in question turned her head at Carol's voice. She held up one finger and bent down to whisper instructions to her son. After leaving him with a kiss and an affectionate tussle of his spirally locks she made her way over to the pair.

With each sway of her hips Ricks cock pulsed with just a little more blood, forcing him to shift his weight back and forth between his feet and avert his eyes. His face flushed quickly as he failed to hide his body's initial reactions to this remarkable woman. As she got closer Rick understand what put the local moms off. She carried herself with an air of self-assurance, which probably wasn't too hard when you had the face and the body she did.

"Hey Carol," she greeted and turned to Rick giving him a subtle nod.

"Michonne, I want you to meet Rick Grimes. He's the brains of this whole operation. Scored the funding and everything."

"You're the local sheriff, right?" she asked with an outstretched hand. Rick nodded accepting the gesture.

"I am. It's nice to meet you Michonne…"

"Charamba, but I can already see your tongue tripping over itself trying to form the right pronunciation." She laughed and placed her hand on her hip. "Call me Michonne. I insist. I prefer it."

"Rick's a good old southern boy. His manners prevented him from calling me by my Christian name for years."

"Carol…" he warned with a new flush warming the tips of his ears.

"You have no excuse this time Rick. You'll be insulting her and butchering her last name if you don't."

"There's nothing wrong with taking the time to learn a new name." He muttered shyly. "I'll call you Miss Michonne if it's alright with you?"

"Miss? What makes you think I'm not married?" Michonne teased. Clearly he was the only one left out of the joke, while Carol and Michonne chuckled quietly, Rick tried his best to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see a ring and I assumed-"

"It's alright, handsome." She pressed her palm to his forearm and gently brushed the lengthy vain that pulsed underneath her thumb. "Nice meeting you."

She walked off in the same captivating rhythm, the movement of her hips once again demanding Rick's focus as she went off to attend to her son. Rick felt Carol's heated gaze and he looked down hastily, finding new interest in his old cowboy boots.

It had been awhile since Rick had flirted with a woman. Not that he could qualify his pathetic exchange with the intriguing art teacher a feat of Casanova-like skills, but he was rusty. It was a new feeling whetting his appetite, dipping his toe into the usually lukewarm dating pool King's County offered. It felt even better haphazardly doing it with this ridiculously gorgeous woman. Unfortunately, the nagging insecurities that drove him and his ex-wife Lori to counseling, a trial separation, and finally a divorce came rearing its ugly heads.

Rick never really had any game, Lori was his high school sweetheart. He'd won her over being a genuinely nice guy, at least that's what he was led to believe. The pair had gotten engaged right after high school with plans for an immediate summer wedding. Their parents objected and advised the pair to at least attend a year of community college. Rick managed to finish up with an associates while Lori felt she was better suited for a lifelong position as a housewife. Which was fine with Rick, he just hopped she wouldn't resent him in the long run if she felt stifled by that job. Of course within the years of their marriage she did, her lack of degree ending up being one of the driving points in her need to take time away from their lives and find hers.

They waited a few years until finally conceiving Carl and for a while Lori assured him she felt like she had a purpose in their relationship. Rick took it in stride, not really understanding why she'd felt so hopeless in the past when she decided to quit school but he was happy for the shift in her life.

All of this wasn't a problem for Rick, but after spending years of checking in on her when she stayed home with Carl, cancelling sheriff related conferences for fear of leaving Lori out, and being urged to speak up more and express himself, that was it. They couldn't figure out a way to come back from it.

Lori had moved on, unpredictably, with his childhood best friend Shane and they were already preparing a new family of their own. She'd broke the news to Rick when she caught him inspecting the curve of her t-shirt when she was dropping off Carl for the weekend.

That was two months ago and having to endure all the pressure his friends and family were laying on him to finally move on Rick was starting to agree with all of those folks. He was already starting to see Michonne as the person he wanted to take that leap with. Then his self-doubt started to inch its way through his mind, she probably wasn't interested.

"She's totally out of your league." Carol joked. Mimicking his thoughts for a second time that afternoon. "But, I think it's worth mentioning that she's into you too."


	3. Chapter 3

Carl ended up extending his time with Rick until the following Wednesday. Of course Rick didn't mind, he already hated to think of the time he spent with his son as allotted visits scheduled out through the permissions of the court and Lori. Once again his ex seemed to need more time for her newlywed husband and unborn child. She'd given him some poor excuse about how she and Shane were pinched for time in acquiring a bigger space to house Carl and the baby, and that time would be better served house hunting. Rick couldn't agree more or less. The arrival of a new born was very much taxing, but his exes had each other and Lori had the advantage of experience. It all made Rick question Lori's vehement pleas during their family court sessions that she not be separated from her son.

Nevertheless, having Carl stay till the middle of the week was a plus for Rick. He did have to scramble on Tuesday to find a babysitter, but Beth came through like she always did. Lucky enough for him Beth had a cancellation at the last minute from the new Saturday art instructor. The one he couldn't keep his eyes off of after their brief introduction. Michonne had set Carl up with a mini canvas of his own and the pair entertained each other for the next hour and a half. Rick checked in on them every once in a while and always seemed to find them chuckling about something. He should've been more vigilant to their topics but he was pretty enthralled with her charm and the way she'd managed to charm his more recently surly child. It didn't hurt that her son was a ball of chaotically good energy. He would hang of his mother's back giggling while she bent low to survey and encourage Carl's work. Rick had managed to catch his name after hearing Michonne yell out an "Andre" as his little legs scurried away from what was supposed to be his designated play area.

The young woman was deemed "alright" by Carl with a soft smile and a shrug when Rick implored about the mini art lesson as the two made small talk over burgers and milkshakes at Carol's diner later that evening. Which would bode well for the program and also gave Rick some hope from maybe peeling his son away from his gaming system for at least an hour. Have to start somewhere, he thought to himself. Now he just needed to get the other parents on board. Maybe he would ask Glenn and Maggie Rhee if they would be up for bringing 3-year-old little Hershel around. He wasn't in the stated age group but he might find a friend with Michonne's toddler.

Rick wasn't scheduled to have Carl this weekend but he would still make the trip down to the farmer's market. Maybe he could encourage some of the fellow PTA members to just give it a shot. Lori was always better at these things then him. Now when he found himself face to face with another parent they mostly sputtered their conversions along with him or simply stared, openly. Rick for the life of him couldn't figure it out and mostly equated their reactions to the results of his divorce and the sightings of Lori and Shane around town. He received little to no help when Carol would point it out and laugh. He wasn't sure when she'd decided to play this omnipotent cryptic role in his life, especially when it came to women but if it stopped anytime soon it would be greatly appreciated.

It was now Friday and Rick had just gotten back home from work. He'd hopped in the shower and was begrudgingly throwing on a clean white v neck and his most worn pairs Levi's. Daryl's girlfriend Sasha had insisted on him coming out to their bar MugShots for an indulgent weekend evening. She made the valid point that he didn't have Carl or work for the weekend and could afford to relax for a night.

Rick's phone went off with a text notification from Sasha. He made a swiping motion to unlock the phone and brought up the message. With a heavy sigh he made his way back into his bathroom and dug around the bathroom closet for a comb he could've sworn he'd thrown back there a while ago. His hair was getting pretty long but it wasn't that bad he thought, in response to Sasha's gentle request that he tackle his hair. Once he found the ancient looking thing that one would call a comb, he racked it through his still damp curls, pushing the hair in a sweeping wave till his curls hung daintily at the nape of his hair.

The rest of the text message had instructed a selfie to ensure he adhered to demands, but Rick drew the line at that. He didn't collect much pleasure staring at his face through the screen of his phone and sending it to someone else to stare at as well. He grabbed his keys and wallet from the little dish in the living room and made his way into his truck and down to the bar. It was one of those warm summer evenings that offered just a little relief after the sun went down but was still hot all the same. The drive to the bar wasn't too far, so Rick opted to drive without the AC on and the windows down. He figured he'd save himself gas and dry his hair at the same time.

MugShots was always decently packed on a Friday, and tonight was no different. Rick found a parking spot and quickly made his way into the establishment owned by, as of late, his best friend Daryl. He walked up to the bar and greeted his pal with a simple nod as he watched him pour a steady and moderate rocks glass with bourbon.

"You got Sasha's text?" Rick chuckled with another nod.

"Can't you see her handiwork?" he gestured to his head with the glass and raised it in a solo cheers.

"She wasn't sure you got, seeing as how she didn't get a picture back."

"Tell your girlfriend she's lucky I even showed up tonight." He pointed out.

"Tell me what?" Sasha appeared next to Daryl and looked between the two men.

"Good to see you Sasha," he mumbled, receiving an eye roll in return. She squeezed her boyfriend's bicep in greeting and moved to right side.

"You look nice. All cleaned up for anyone in particular?"

Rick laughed good naturedly, "You know it's for you. What, you think my appearance is gonna scare away potential uppity clientele?"

Sasha joined in on the laughter of the two men, "Something like that. But it doesn't hurt to look good on a Friday night. See ya in a little bit."

Rick groaned as Sasha flitted away to the end of the bar to help a costumer.

"She's not doing what I think she's doing?"

"I don't know what she's doing. But if I had to guess, I'd think ya probably right."

Sasha had been failing for the past three months to set Rick up on a date. At first that was what she pushed for but with Rick's reluctance to actually engage any of the fine women she threw his way in any type of conversation she'd settle for at least a one-night stand.

"Why is your girlfriend so invested in my dating life?" he implored before taking another sip from his glass.

"First of all, you ain't got a dating life. Maybe that's why she's so interested. And second, it wouldn't kill ya to try. Lori's struttin' around here with her belly and Shane like nuttin' happened. Try your hand at sumthin."

His friends all made valid points, but he didn't know if he was ready to get back into the dating game. Well, according to Sasha he hadn't found the right one (to be fair neither had she). And good luck to that, King County was a small town and when scandals like his broke out it could feel even smaller with all the wagging tongues and watchful eyes.

Just then Sasha returned to the bar on the opposite side and grabbed a stool by Rick.

"I heard you met my girl Michonne?" she smiled. Rick nodded and squinted at her.

"Yeah, you know I run that program."

"Well you seemed to have left an impression on her." Rick swallowed thickly and brought his eyes to the remaining swell of bourbon in his glass. He'd taken what Carol said about the beautiful young woman being semi interested in him with a grain of salt. Now Sasha was over in his ear reiterating the same thought Carol had. Still, something wasn't adding up.

"I talked to her for about 3 minutes." He shrugged. Trying to keep his cool, but his ears were glowing a warm red, the telltale signs of his growing embarrassment. He was a 37-year-old man; this type of shit was supposed to be left back in high school. "Then I let her do her thang."

"Carol said she caught you staring at her way too long to be considered friendly."

Rick groaned and slammed back the rest of his drink. He gestured towards Daryl to give him a refill. If this conversation was about to go down he sensed he was going to need the aid of the amber liquid.

"I wasn't…staring at her."

"Well you can explain yourself to her. Michonne's on her way."

As if on cue, there she was walking in through the bar entrance commanding the attention of everyone in the room. She was wearing a simple tight black dress with spaghetti straps, her dark skin had a golden tint to it as she moved through the crowd to join the trio at the bar. Her small afro was combed out into a perfect hallow and her lips were formed in a tempting red heart shape.

Michonne reached Sasha first and the two women greeted each other with open arms and giggles. Rick's eyes drifted from her tiny waist to her round backside that jiggled slightly as Sasha rocked her friend back and forth in her embrace. He turned to the bar to take another swig of his bourbon, feeling a little more empowered by the heady alcohol he chanced another peek at her backside but instead was offered the view of her front. He quickly raised his eyes and found Michonne's already locked with his.

She smiled enticingly and stepped towards him, placing herself in-between him and Sasha.

"Hey Daryl. I'll have whatever the sheriff's having." She laughed while placing her arm on the bar top. Her bangles bounced musically on the counter as she waited for her drink, simultaneously ignoring Rick.

Rick sighed inwardly, he was pretty sure he was destined to act like an imbecile whenever this beautiful woman was in his presence. He couldn't even find his tongue to offer her a 'hello' in the short interval of time she was standing there.

"Evening Michonne," he finally acknowledged her. She turned her body and nodded at his words, accepting her glass from Daryl she knocked it gently with his.

"Rick."

"This night better get interesting." Sasha mumbled, watching the pair eye each other.

"Of course it will." Michonne grabbed Rick's free hand with hers and began to drag him from his chair. "Rick's going to teach me how to play pool."

"I am?" he croaked, looking amongst Daryl and Sasha for help.

"Yeah cowboy, you are."

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, things are heating up with these two. I'm going to try and get the next chapter out as soon as possible. And I promise we'll see more of Michonne and Richonne in the next update. Thank you again for all your thoughts and reviews! It's all very encouraging.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It's been awhile with this one. But here's a humble offering, thank you for reading!**

* * *

There were only stragglers left by the time the pair made their way over. It quickly cleared up when the few billiard players spotted the local sheriff, they offered their quiet nods and found different new spots to loiter and linger.

"It must be nice being the big man on campus. Certainly has its perks." Michonne teased as she collected a cue stick. Rick looked around at the nearly scattered crowd, fixing the blue chalk cube on his stick.

"They were probably done." He shrugged and watched her rack up the balls. Michonne had a way of bending over whenever his eyes looked her way. Here she was now, putting a lot of effort into dragging those very willing balls across the green felt in its triangular setting. Those little movements drawing attention to her round bottom, those delectable globes shifting slightly in that clingy black dress of hers.

"You can't be that oblivious." She snorted under her breath.

"What?"

"I'll break." She offered and leaned back down towards the table. Her cue moved surely through her fore and middle finger as she struck the pyramid, sinking two solid balls in its wake.

Rick stared dumbfounded. "I'm suppose to be teachin' you?" he voiced out loud.

"I'm still a little rusty. Don't worry, I'll give you plenty of opportunities to get in real close behind me and move my hips in the right direction." Rick damn near choked on his gulp of bourbon at her last sentence. Was this for real? He knew he wasn't a Casanova, by any means, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out when a girl was hitting on you.

Michonne flubbed her turn and walked over to where Rick stood. Her hand patted his chest in a light soothing manner, then rubbed small circles into his shirt and backed off. "Slow down, sheriff. Don't want the fine people in here to think that I'm making you nervous."

"You are," he admitted softly. "A little bit. I'm not sure…" He trailed off, rubbing his left brow with his thumb fixing his eyes on the table in front of them. Times like these were often spent wishing he had the tenacity and forwardness of his ex-best friend Shane. Whenever Shane found himself in these situations he always had the right moves and words. He knew exactly what to do when Lori started coming around, asking for more than just a shoulder to cry on.

"Let's just finish the game. No pressure." Michonne offered. His thoughts were doing laps a mile a minute in his head and she definitely could glean this from the expression on his face. "It's been awhile since I've had a night away from my son. Maybe I'm a little too excited." She leaned in to take another shot, her demeanor now a little deflated.

Rick's lips parted to offer some comforting words, but he couldn't seem to find them or his voice. He could almost taste the palm of Sasha's hand slapping him in the back of the head, the scolding he knew was coming for missing his shot. There he stood, still tongue tied as he watched Michonne bungle what would've been her next to last turn.

"Damn, I thought I had a hand on that." She mumbled to herself. Definitely wasn't talking to him anymore, Rick hadn't managed to say anything in at least ten painful minutes.

"Um," he croaked awkwardly. He dropped his cue against the wall he had been so keen on holding up while she played, and made his way over to her. Rick's hand's slowly moved to her hips, without thinking he pulled her closer to him and bounced her lightly against his pelvis. "Sorry, I…I was gonna show you how to make that shot. Or a better way to make that shot."

"Feels like you're doing it. In more ways than one." Michonne bumped back against him, attempting to maintain their closeness. "Rick?" In his quest to get close to her, Michonne acquiesced and encouraged with a confident soft smooth arm around his neck as she turned her body halfway to him. Her hand slid through the silky curls at the nape of his head, tugging his face into her neck. "I know you're off duty, but would you mind walking me to my car. I left something in my backseat that acquires my attention."

Rick grunted as she punctuated her last statement with a switch of her hips. He nodded mutely and followed her lead as they ambled out of the bar.

He didn't remember being this much of a lightweight when he found himself in front of Michonne's black Honda CR-V. But his tongue felt thick, his head lighter of most of his worries, and definitely agreeable to what he assumed she was looking to find out here in the deserted parking lot.

Michonne turned towards him and leaned against the back seat door. She held up a finger gesturing for him to move closer. Rick's heart began to thud in an unbearably rude manner, he was sure she could hear it in the empty parking lot. Thank god his feet had a mind of their own because they moved assertively until he stood in front of her relaxed body.

"Are you shy Rick?" Michonne asked, her hands grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt erasing the limited space between them. Before he could answer her brazen tongue reached out and licked a long stripe up his pretty pink lips. Then proceeded to capture them in a sultry kiss. Rick's hands soon joined the party and grabbed at her waist inching them impossibly closer. Her tongue sought out his own when she deepened the kiss and wiggled herself against his lean body.

"I'm not shy," he breathed out between the wet pecks she was giving. "Just a little out of practice."

"A handsome guy like you doesn't seem like he needs any practice."

"I do!" He whimpered as he felt one of her hands grasping the outline of his stiff cock. "You're so beautiful." Rick drew back on a whisper, looking into those big brown doe-like eyes of hers.

He lunged forward and captured her lips with his once more. Their tongues became well acquainted as he slid his hands down those thick thighs and up the thin fabric of her dress. He cupped that fat cheeks of her ass that he'd been staring at ever since they'd met and squeezed them in sweet relief. They felt as good as they looked and he wanted to get down on his knees, turn her back to him, and pay them proper homage. Rick had never thought himself an ass man, but after Michonne it was his new religion. Only Michonne though, he could already feel a possessive pull to her. He wanted to worship from her wide hips and sing honeyed hymnals at the secret apex between her thighs.

They soon found themselves in the backseat of her car, wedged up against her son's car seat. Michonne climbed on top of Rick and slipped her hands underneath his shirt. She began nipping at his ear and rolling her hips against his as he struggled desperately to keep up. A well placed bite to his earlobe had his eyes popping open, gripping her hips to still her motion. His lower half tingled with the oncoming sensations of a well deserved come until the familiar rappings of a flashlight on the car door window stole his victorious sweep to glory. And added a different tingling sensation, this time one of embarrassment to his upper half.


End file.
